


Gold

by audimanrium



Series: Beauty in Blood [1]
Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: F/F, I imagine Heather M. to be more emotionally unstable after Heather C. 's death, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Vent Work, Veronica will beat up anyone come her way and she will fight you, also I think Heather M. would be one of those people that beats herself up when making a mistake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 09:20:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9378275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audimanrium/pseuds/audimanrium
Summary: The time gradually proceeds after the unfortunate passing of Heather Chandler, alongside Ram Sweeney and Kurt Kelly, and the suicide bomb of Jason Dean.The pain is churning and with barely anyone to turn to, Heather McNamara finds herself digging up old thoughts that she never would've imagined to return.





	

**Author's Note:**

> If you hadn't seen in the additional tags, this story will unfortunately deal with the topic of suicide. 
> 
> This work is completely on the spot as it will be one of many emotional vent works from my collection. 
> 
> Most of this is taken from my own personal experience, I must admit, and I attempted to convey my own thoughts into another character.

Paled, sickly skin slowly slit by the power invested within a singular blade of silver. A trail of crimson dribbled down her flesh in gentle waves, oddly tranquil aside from the muttered cries of regret initiated from the commander.

A myraid of disarray pills were spilled along the tile floor of the bathroom, most already lodged down her throat. Heather dropped the knife to the floor, the metal clattering. 

Her hands found their way to her blonde hair, pulling and gripping at the curls so tightly as if it were a lifeboat. Heather's eyes were shut tight, closed as much as she could to avoid the world from seeping into her vision. 

"I shouldn't have said that," she had repeated to herself over and over again, almost as if convincing herself she never said it in the first place.

_"Hello this is Heather ... no wait Madonna ... no ... this is Tweety."_

Heather should have never spilled her heart that day on the radio for the public to hear. Continuously she got ridiculed for her outburst of emotion, scarred by the likings of Heather Duke and her newly formed gang. 

Her body slumped against the wall even more, all her regrets suddenly spilling out. It was painful to remember, but there was unfortunately no conclude to her endless memory of horror.

When she shared the sexual harassment of Ram and Kurt on the media rather than telling her parents. Her aunt told them instead. 

She got verbally beat that day, and was threatened to never be allowed outside. 

Heather had regretted that decision of not telling. She was too much of a coward.

When she couldn't have stopped Heather Chandler from killing herself, that she blamed the most. She could've spoken to her, notice the little tid bits of depression that overwhelmed the girl.

Heather regretted that she couldn't have saved her. She was too oblivious. 

Even simply, when she couldn't get a damn math problem correct. She blamed herself. Years of relentless teasing from peers and regret does that to people. Especially Heather McNamara.

Heather regretted that she hadn't more intelligent than the others, and that she was easy to make mistakes. She was too stupid and imperfect. 

"Aw, look what we have here." The devil, Heather Duke, had ever so tauntingly drawled out. She cooed at the pathetic mess of faded gold crippled on the ground.

Heather McNamara only squeezed into a ball tighter, clothes staining a deep red now with the heavy amount of blood gushing from both arms. 

"Are you whining again?" Heather Duke teased with a malicious grin, like a cheshire, as she squatted down before the blonde in the bathroom. She gripped the golden girl's arm tightly before yanking it away from cuddling her body. 

"Seems like you're finally catching on to the trend, 'Namara." Heather Duke had teased, motioning towards her now partially red clothing in comparrison to her own.

She used to be green, an emerald, but then Heather Chandler died.   

"Heather, please," Heather McNamara whined, feeling her heart pound against her ribcage as the grip around her wrist tighten. 

"What? You're going to whine some more?" Heather Duke sneered, knocking Heather McNamara into the wall with a heavy thud. Heather curled up against the wall, fearful of the demon before her. 

"Leave me alone." She had cried ever so softly, only to be met with the villainous chortle of the other Heather. 

"So the bitch has a voice! How astonishing! But we already knew that from your little confession, Tweety." Heather Duke teased once more, causing more tears to spill down the blonde's features.

Heather smiled sickly as she picked up the medicine bottle from the ground, glancing over to Heather McNamara and her bloody cuts. Her eyes held a scorching flame of judgement and terror. 

"You know, if you wanted to kill yourself so badly, why don't you just hang yourself already? Or shoot yourself. Or properly stab yourself." The suggestion list continued onward from Heather Duke. 

"I'm scared." Heather McNamara whispered her reply. Not because she was scared of Heather Duke, but of something else. 

The blonde 'bimbo' was absolutely terrified of death, if not she would've killed herself a long time ago. Heather McNamra choose suffering over death, as of now — burning, cutting, and bruising over the light of God or the flames of Lucifer ready to consume her. 

Honestly, deep down in her heart, she believed there to be something better for her beyond the borders of school and home. Heather believed there could be so much more for her, but never has she seen such an angelic gesture to save her; except once. 

"Pathetic." Heather Duke scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Just kill yourself already. Those slits on your wrist aren't going to get you pity, you attention whore." She had added on, making a vivid motion towards the blood spilled over her body. 

Every word of Heather's had rang deeply into the other girl's ears, repeating the words of hurt continuously. She cried even more, trying to hug her knees in what was an invisible lifeboat. She watched as the captain pointed at her, commanding her to hop off all hope and utterly extinguish.

Heather's cry echoed in the bathroom as Heather Duke clutched her hair, forcibly lifting her off the ground painfully. 

"Go ahead and whine, you fucking piece of-" 

"Hey!" Another voice yelled in the bathroom, the heavy pounding of furious footsteps knocking into the ground. A blaze of sapphire stormed into the bathroom, confronting Heather Duke. 

"And what gives you the right to pick on her? What's your damage, Heather?" An angel once witnessed by Heather McNamara had yelled angrily. Heather Duke dropped the girl onto the floor and fully turned to Veronica. 

"She fucking deserves it. She an attention whore. Heather is nothing more than a stupid blonde bimbo who is too fucking scared to do shit." Heather Duke's words infuriated Veronica on levels, but she had to remain steady before doing something she would ultimately regret. 

"Heather, I've never seen any of what you've described in Heather McNamara. She's not an attentiom whore, neither stupid. And everyone's scared. Everyone's fucking scared of something." Veronica said firmly, glaring darkly at the red-donning vixen before her. 

"As if." Heather Duke muttered before stepping over to the other Heather, kicking her sqaure in the stomach. By this point, Veronica was beyond outraged. She was fucking furious.

Hastily, Veronica punched Heather Duke in the jaw until the girl stumbled bacl. Veronica then sent another punch to her stomach, watching as she began to wither. 

"Leave Heather alone." Veronica firmly stated with deep malice lining her voice. Heather Duke hastily ran out of the bathroom. Veronica turned back to Heather before kneeling down on the floor by her. 

Veronica gently graced Heather's hand and lifted her up ever so carefully, as if piecing broken porcelain. She led her to the sink and turned on the faucet, cold water, before carefully running the liquid over Heather's arms. 

The entire time neither girl had said a word as the process of patching up the blonde had begun. The cuts had stopped floaing by now, but many were still bleeding continuously. Veronica had taken some tiny bandages to heal those. 

"Feeling better?" Veronica quietly inquired as they both sat on the bathroom floor together. Heather's eyes began to water, and she finally cried once again, though not out of sorrow. 

"Thank you ..." Heather grumbled as she buried herself in Veronica, both of them hugging sweetly. Veronica's lips pressed to Heather's head, giving her a kiss while murmuring hearty words that meant the world to Heather. 

"I'm glad you're okay. You're wonderful beyond belief, and once we graduate, life will get better." 

Heather had found something better, but not beyond the borders of school. An angel has graced her once again, and she was relieved. She was intertwined with hope.

 

 

\--- Alternative Ending --- 

"I'm glad you're okay. You're wonderful beyond belief, and once we graduate, life will get better." 

Unfortunately, that held false.

Veronica didn't come in tome, in fact she never came at all. Many days ago, before the death of Jason Dean, Veronica Sawyer had hung herself in her bedroom. 

Heather McNamara truly needed and angel, but her last hope actually became one and died with the rest of them. 

The bathroom situtation did occur, but after Heather Duke kicked her, Heather McNamara passed out from frustrated tears and exhaustion. 

She died later on the bathroom flood, from overdose and blood loss. 

**Author's Note:**

> I need a Veronica in my life :(


End file.
